I wonder if the albergues along the Camino secretly run a competition to see who can sqeeze the most number of beds into the smallest amount of space. Here in Puente la Reina there were ten beds in a room hardly bigger than my bathroom. There was barely walking room between the bunks, let alone space for packs, walking poles and the like. But somehow we all made it work, because we had to.
It was in this room that I met another Canadian couple: David and Seta from Kamloops. We five Canadians (David, Seta, Jo Anne, Moya and myself) all went to dinner, along with our friend Elizabeth from France. Since Elizabeth spoke virtually no English, we ended up spending most of the evening fumbling along in French. How strange that here I was in Spain, getting a French language workout.
After dinner I headed straight for bed, exhausted after walking more than 27 kilometres in seven hours. In a few week’s time, my body would handle such a distance with no problem. But not today. Today my muscles were in a state of shock, not knowing quite what had hit them.